Luyện nghe bài hát It Was Written [Explicit]

Six ways to die
(Took a lot to get Rollie nigga)
Six million to get rich
(Huh, hah)

Everybody keep me "make a club record"
You ain't trapping no more, stop making drug
You got a daughter bout to come, making thug records
I brought money back fast, I had the plug flexing
Welcome to Harlem, el Barrio, that's the section
Hit your bitch with my jeans on, ain't making naked
I got love for my but I know cuz reckless
I ain't sleep in the projects, I did enough stressing
My father was a rolling but taught me one lesson
Do your dirt by yourself, your be the ones telling
I knew it broke my mother's heart to know her son
I had in my dresser, trifling as ever
I had a dream Biggie featured me on After
I be with my same niggas, I don't like rappers
Niggas can't make a for nothing but they nice actors
Go and get a movie role, low bagging up rolls, raw shit
I come from a block where you seen it but saw shit
I be at the juice bar, my wheat grass and shit
My younging just from up north, he want to park shit
Tryna him something bout life and how we started
Lower class poverty, homies from jail me
Playing the number everyday but hit the lottery
Liquor store on every corner, might as well get
I remember free lunch wasn't shooting, we would jump stones
Niggas like the end of the blunt, load up
I told papi I got him by the end of the
I was thinking bout 550's with the guts
These blow your mind away, now your memory dust
And of, I got a JF Kennedy buzz
called enterprise, I need another rental
Tryna take a package to North Carolina
buy some Ferrigamo, I'm so focused on the commas

If you been broke it's gon' be hard to feel me
Only Allah get my flow, it's gon' be to kill me
They say make perfect, we at it every day
Thinking about that consignment, sometimes I paid
It was I'm gifted, homie come learn something
bout paper homie, let's burn something
It was written I'm gifted, homie learn something
Conversations bout paper homie, let's burn

It's hard to stop what's already in
I ain't gotta hit your blunt, I've been smoking
G Star denims on my Shmurda
In '08 my mental was really on some murder
Cause nothing was enough
to pass the time started working out
Me and my Jay Black from way back
He a Bronx nigga, met him in
Butch crib, met up fiends
Imagine Nas you, hell of a dream
Somebody me
Promise they say ever getting to me
Used to watch Party, not kidding play listen to me
This talk that make the hustlers want to open shop
that stash house talk, don't let 'em know the spot
This that that got my city wanting to rap again
This all black everything like an African
This that middle of the in a trench coat
Glock 19 reminding of how you been broke

If you never been it's gon' be hard to feel me
Only Allah get my flow, gon' be hard to kill me
They say practice perfect, we at it every day
about that consignment, sometimes I never paid
It was written I'm gifted, come learn something
Conversations bout paper homie, let's something
It was written I'm gifted, come learn something
bout paper homie, let's burn something

I my way right up out the projects nigga
Put your mind to it, anything is possible
a hole in the wall, yeah
Now we in the presidential man
Top floor, flower for bust nigga
Harlem,